


Deep Breaths

by enchantedsleeper



Category: The Strange Case of Starship Iris (Podcast)
Genre: Fluff, Other, Post-Season 2 Episode 3: Deep Breath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:07:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29767002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enchantedsleeper/pseuds/enchantedsleeper
Summary: Coda to Episode 2.03: Deep Breath. The Other Violet processes her call with the Rumor crew. Thasia helps.
Relationships: Other Violet Liu & Thasia





	Deep Breaths

**Author's Note:**

> After listening to Episode 2.03, I couldn’t help but want to write something from Other Violet’s perspective after the call with Sana and Arkady, to explore some of her thoughts and humanise her a bit. It can’t be easy being the premier spymaster of a galaxy-wide revolution. Plus, I wanted the excuse to write some soft Other Violet & Thasia fluff ^^ (I envision their relationship here as more queerplatonic than romantic, but feel free to make it whatever you want in your own head).
> 
> Warning for references to Brian’s illness from Episode 3, as well as references to the death of Emily Craddock. I tried to go lightly on this and not make it a main theme of the fic, but the references and associations are still there and could potentially be distressing to people with the way the world is right now, so please take care <3
> 
> ([Originally posted to Tumblr](https://iffeelscouldkill.tumblr.com/post/642413092001742848/coda-to-episode-203-deep-breath) and cross-posted to AO3 and backdated. Mainly because I wanted to use the OV & Thasia relationship tag, honestly xD)

Violet closed her eyes after the call ended, counting out the seconds. Once she got to ten, she opened them again.

It hadn’t helped much; the beginnings of a headache still throbbed at her temple, insistent. She took another couple of deep, steadying breaths.

She was in the middle of orchestrating a galaxy-wide revolution, with an infinite number of moving parts, variables and potential pressure points to navigate every single day. One group of loose-cannon smugglers and former Regime agents shouldn’t be able to stress her out like this. And yet.

They hadn’t checked in. They’d gone bolting off to Telemachus without a single word, practically crash-landed on the planet by the sounds of things, and hadn’t even thought to so much as _let her know._ And the situation with their translator–

“How was the call?” Thasia quietly re-entered the room, two steaming mugs held in one of their pairs of hands. Violet recognised the scent of chrysanthemum, and took another moment to be grateful to Thasia for always, somehow, knowing what she needed before she did. She held out a hand and accepted the mug.

“They figured out that the illegal weapons shipment was headed for Telemachus and took off there like a shot to warn their contacts,” Violet summarised, taking a sip of the tea, which was sweetened just the way she liked it. “And they managed to tear up the ship on entry.”

Thasia, who had sat down on the floor of Violet’s little office - or as they liked to call it, the ‘command centre’ - did a physical double-take. “Tore up the ship? Krejjh? That doesn’t sound like them. When I said that their flying was legendary, I mean I have _never_ seen anything like it.”

Violet pressed her lips together; she’d been holding back this last piece of news. “Brian Jeeter is sick,” she said, succinctly. “It sounds like he was taken ill shortly before they left Hypatia, or maybe just after. In Captain Tripathi’s words, he 'coughed himself unconscious’.”

She watched the impact of these words hit Thasia, who cursed softly under their breath. “Translator Jeeter lived out in Neuzo,” they said.

“Yes.”

“Did you tell them about–?”

“They weren’t in the mood to hear it, and I wasn’t in the mood to go into it,” Violet said shortly. “Besides, what good would it do? We weren’t - able to save her.”

Thasia shifted fractionally closer to her chair, almost but not quite touching. Near enough to offer comfort. “Translator Jeeter spent some years on Neuzo, but he didn’t grow up there,” they pointed out. “So his condition is probably… recoverable. With time.”

“I know that,” said Violet, a little too quickly. “They got him medical attention quickly enough. I’m not concerned.”

Thasia looked at her. Dwarnians didn’t have eyebrows, but the expression of scepticism was easy enough to read without them.

“I just wish they would-” Violet searched for the words to put to her frustration. “Stop to think for a second and realise that they’re a part of something bigger now. That they have responsibilities to people other than themselves.” Thasia tilted their head, the Dwarnian equivalent of a nod of understanding. “And that they also have people they can rely on now, too.”

“It can take time, that sort of adjustment,” Thasia pointed out. “It wasn’t that long ago that they were just a tiny group of smugglers. But they’ll come around. They’re just… scared. And desperate. You and I both know how that feels.”

Violet let out a breath, because they did. She could - and did - still fault the Rumor crew for being brash, impulsive, reckless and uncommunicative, but most of those were things she’d known they were when she’d given them the Hypatia job. This was just another reminder. 

And she couldn’t fault the crew for panicking and doing whatever they could to help a crewmate who had suddenly fallen seriously ill, with a cause they didn’t properly understand or know how to deal with. Violet remembered how that felt. The helplessness.

It didn’t change anything about their situation, the razor’s edge they were currently walking between success and failure, and she didn’t regret taking the Captain and Arkady to task in the way that she had. They needed to understand what was at stake. But it did sap the last of her irritation, leaving her just feeling drained. The headache stabbed at her temples more insistently, given the opening.

It wasn’t three o'clock in the morning where she and Thasia were; she wasn’t sure what time it was. She worked until she couldn’t any more and then slept. Woke up again, and repeated the cycle.

“Violet,” said Thasia, and Violet opened her eyes again, not sure when she’d closed them. Thasia only rarely dropped the title from her name, and never when others were around; it always managed to surprise her, like a little shock of intimacy. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

In response, Violet got down from her chair and sat next to Thasia on the floor until they were body to body, sharing warmth. She leaned her forehead against Thasia’s. “Just this,” she said, honestly.

She felt, more than saw, Thasia smile, as they gently brushed a strand of her hair behind one ear. “I can do that,” they said.

**Author's Note:**

> Headcanon-y thoughts: it wasn't until I came to work on this fic that I remembered that Emily Craddock _grew up in the Neutral Zone_. That place with famously awful air? Which really puts a new spin on "she always had weak lungs" 😭 The similarities to Brian's situation must have been there in Other Violet's mind when she spoke to Sana and Arkady - and maybe she was particularly annoyed about them not reaching out about Brian's illness because she and Thasia could have identified the cause a lot sooner. 
> 
> Also yes, tea-drinking will be a recurring theme of my fics, just because everyone needs more soothing tea in their lives xD


End file.
